Unbreakable
by ChiefRusty
Summary: The friendship between two Imperial Guardsmen is put to the test in the fires of war.


++It Is Better To Die For The Emperor Than To Live For Yourself++

As Trenko's helmeted head banged skull-jarringly against the wall of the lander for the seventh time, the Guardsman began to notice the slight ache forming in his head. Trenko also realized that his breakfast of…what in the fucking Warp was that stuff anyway? He'd never care to find out. Bottom line, it had been a mistake as he felt like it would be all over the floor in a few seconds. The smell of vomit from many first-timers already permeated air within the lander; the fact that that same air was being recycled made it all the worse. Still, Trenko thanked the Emperor on Terra for the fact that this was not a combat drop, and that he wasn't among the poor souls that went in with the first wave. Trenko had been there once before on his only other drop, and as if a regular lander ride wasn't turbulent enough, the anti-aircraft fire from the planet's surface forced the pilot into all sorts of maneuvers. Add that to the fact that gibbering cultists had been waiting for him outside, and Trenko was momentarily regretful of joining the Guard.

However, this time it was different. Trenko and his company were being afforded the luxury of a quiet landing at the spaceport, followed by a nice, long ride to the battle zone. _The inferior Tau invaders did not expect the glorious armies of the God-Emperor,_ Commissar Harkov had told Trenko and the company in the crowded briefing room. _Their pitiful excuses for soldiers are in disarray. The treasonous human collaborators are retreating with them. Show those who reject the Emperor no mercy._

Trenko had heard the propaganda over and over again, and looking at the state the Xenos had put the universe in, he was inclined to agree out of his own free will. The Orks deserved death, The Eldar deserved death. The Tau imperialists were no better. They all had to die to make room for the Emperor's chosen: the Human race, to which by nature they were inferior. No other race had built so much and had graced the galaxy as they did. It was not a duty but a privilege to ensure Man's survival among these cold, merciless stars.

Suddenly, Trenko felt the lander decelerate rapidly. The Guardsman next to Trenko, Korban, tossed the contents of his stomach onto the deck. Several others who had not done so proceeded with their disgusting, nausea-relieving ritual. Trenko laughed, stepped out of the lander, and indulged in doing so on the landing pad.

Trenko, using the handkerchief he carried in his pocket to wipe his mouth, suddenly noticed that the air was damp and hot. The smell and scattered puddles of water gave away the fact that it had been raining recently. He began to sweat and promptly rolled up the sleeves to his dull tan uniform tunic. Trenko, already feeling like the grizzled veteran he wasn't, took in his surroundings like any good infantryman. The sky glowed a dull copper color. Much like Cappella, the peaceful but boring agri-world that he had once called home. The sudden reminder of his home and his family, neither of which he had seen in two years, brought to him sufficient nostalgia to be painful. He could practically smell his mother's grox stew, the savory aroma wafting in from the house; he could hear the crunch of his father's work boots after a long day of trying to appease the machine-spirits in the hydro pumps, which never seemed to be on their side. He wondered if his father had gotten around to finding a techpriest to fix them. He'd probably never find out…

"Hey, you're drifting, bro." Trenko snapped out of his daydream with a jolt. He looked next to him to see the sweat-beaded face of his squad mate and best friend, Drex Raeth. Trenko and Drex had been best friends all the way through their education. They'd joined the Guard together, they'd trained together, they'd fought together, and they'd inevitably almost died together. Their bond was stronger than that of brothers; it had practically come to the point where neither of them would question giving his life for the other.

"Yeah," Trenko replied. "Just thinking about back home."

"You know you're not going back," Drex said grimly. "No one does."

"Yeah," Trenko said. "I guess since I'm not going home, the best chance we've got is to shoot a bunch of ugly-ass Xenos freak shows and we'll get to settle down somewhere, get a little friendly with the locals…"

Drex laughed as Trenko's voice faded out. Trenko grinned back at him. In all seriousness, every Guardsman hoped for that chance to settle down. It was better than to live a life of constant war. While Trenko was a faithful man, he believed such things were best left to the Astartes. Despite that, Trenko had joined to shoot aliens and by the Golden Throne it was aliens he was going off to shoot.

"Atten-SHUT!"

The sudden call of the company commissar led the Guardsmen to assemble in a rough formation. The sudden lack of men and women chattering gave way for many to notice the muffled cracks of distant lasgun fire, and the high-pitched whine of Tau pulse rifles firing off in return. An explosion resounded; it was probably a human-made explosive of some sort, seeing as the sound it made was a deep boom. Trenko caught the flash of a far-away lascannon in the corner of his eye.

"At ease," the company commander, Captain Blykhaler, said. Trenko had heard from many of the other men in the company that Blykhaler was a competent officer but was overly tight with discipline. Such was life, as long as the man didn't try to get them killed.

"Here's the deal," Blykhaler said, motioning for the Guardsmen to sit down on the landing pad. "Our company is to advance on foot to the plains outside the spaceport. The plains used to be a nice, wide open space, full of grass and absolutely no cover." Blykahler paused.

_You don't say?_ thought Trenko gnomishly.

"This is no longer the case. The Xenos, despite their cowardly nature, have dug in deep to stand their ground. They know they're losing that land and they're making us pay fucking hell for it. This campaign isn't going to be a simple smash-and-run operation like Shaboloth. We can definitely expect protracted trench warfare. Men are going to die. Some of us won't make it to continue on. Those who die can expect to rest at the side of the Immortal God-Emperor for eternity. We're fighting for a just cause, to liberate this world from the grip of alien oppression. Make every shot count, check your sides and spread out. I don't want to lose the whole damn company to some fuckin' greyskin who's sitting in a hover-tank feeling lucky. Make no mistake, these aliens are inferior to the glories of humanity in every way, but they are by no means harmless.

"And should any of you even think of retreating," Blykhaler said, his voice growing deadly, "I shall be there to ensure it takes more courage to retreat than to advance."

Blykhaler looked over his troops to ensure his message had gotten through. The one hundred and seventy-six men and women of C Company, 16th Cappellan Infantry, of the Emperor's illustrious Imperial Guard looked like the message had gotten through clearly. Blykhaler had been quite reluctant to take charge of a company of farm kids; a Captain of the Imperial Guard certainly deserved a higher posting than a job normally undertaken by a Lieutenant or a senior Sergeant. However, the dedication these young men and women seemingly possessed did him proud, agri-world hicks or not.

"Dismissed. You know your duty. Remember that the Emperor is watching, and should that be insufficient, remember that _I_ am watching."

* * *

"Well, that was pretty fuckin' inspiring."

Trenko, for the _n_th time (_n_ probably outnumbering the number of men in the entire Imperial Guard,) again ignored the habitual bitching that the short, stocky Vekt Kaidin seemed to enjoy so much as the company marched in a ragged line towards the growing din of battle. Not like Trenko couldn't blame him at times, but there was a time when it got to the point that he wanted to shove his bayonet through Kaidin's forehead.

"Fuckin' A, man." Trenko's temper flared again once he realized Kaidin wasn't going to stop. "First, the man tells us we're all gonna die one way or another. Then, he tells us that if we even think about trying to save our own lives, he's gonna place a bolt in our heads."

"Kaidin," Korban, another member of Trenko's squad, said, "Shut the fuck up."

"Do what he says, Kaidin." Sergeant Ishti, the two-meter tall brute they called their squad leader, said, eliciting a faint chorus of cheers from the rest of the squad.

Trenko looked to the left and right of him. He absentmindedly noted that the squad was a prime example of just how diverse of a people Cappellans were, compared with the rest of the Imperium. Trenko and Drex came from the higher northern regions and sported high cheekbones, narrow eyes, dead-straight black hair and yellow-tinted skin. Kaidin's skin was reddish-brown, his eyes round, and hair blonde. Ishti and Korban were from the middle of Cappella's inhabited continent and could easily pass for pale-skinned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Cadians. The rest of the men had a range of differing physical traits; it was impossible to mistake one for the other. Another reason the aliens deserved to die: each and every one of them looked alike. There was no aesthetic variation, so therefore they were animals and inferior to-

"Hey, you hear that?" Sergeant Ishti said.

"No. The firing's stopped, though." Luka Hawke, the token female member of the squad, was almost whispering.

"Exactly," Ishti said, "Can't you hear the silence?"

Luka, Drex and Korban snorted in amusement at Ishti's ham-handed attempt at humor. The company, regardless of the silence, moved along at its normal, cautious pace; even though the Xenos might appear to have stopped fighting for the moment, one could never be too sure. Minutes passed, and the sounds of fighting did not resume. However, a thick cloud of smoke began to fill his vision. After what seemed like an eternity to Trenko but was only thirty minutes according to his watch, a single, two-meter wide trench came into view. The fortification stretched as far as Trenko could see with his mediocre eyesight. Trenko paused and eyed the trench suspiciously. Yes, the men behind it were Guardsmen. Trenko still did not relax. There could be Tau snipers hiding somewhere-

"Emperor's fuckin' balls!" shouted a trooper from another squad at a sudden lasgun shot directed at their company.. The shot elicited many a swear word from the men inside the trench as well. From what Trenko could surmise, the shot that had made him nearly piss his pants had come from an overly paranoid trooper who had simply panicked when he saw figures on the horizon.

"Identify yourselves!" shouted a heavily accented voice from the trench. The man sounded like he was from…Krieg? Valhalla? The guy was probably from Valhalla, judging from the uniforms and the pot-shaped helmets he and his cohorts wore.

"Hold your fire! Imperial Guard, Cappellan 16th! We're your backup!" Blykhaler sounded on the verge of panic. Trenko couldn't blame him, as he didn't exactly fancy being shot at by his brothers in arms either. He felt the rock in his stomach crumble and dissipate as he heard the man's confirmation of their identity.

"You may want to get in here quickly, the greyskins definitely heard that shot."

Trenko leaped into the trench next to Drex and came face to face with one of the Valhallans. Unlike Trenko, who, despite being sweaty, wore relatively clean Cadian-pattern combat gear. The Valhallan, though he looked like he couldn't be much younger than Trenko was, wore mud-stained boots and mud-stained breeches. The Guardsman didn't wear a helmet; instead, he wore a garrison cap matching his uniform. Like Trenko, the Valhallan's tunic sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, and he was definitely sweating.

Trenko extended his hand out to the Valhallan. "Trenko."

The Valhallan took it and squeezed without shaking. "Ivanov. Just listen to me and we'll get out of this alive."

"I don't hear anything from the other side," whispered Luka, intently focusing on the area immediately ahead of them. As the smoke began to clear, Trenko could see figures moving about in another trench about three hundred meters away. He clearly saw that they were fire warriors. Tau. Xenos.

"Those are Tau? I thought they'd be taller." Drex peered at the opposing trench. Dozens of Tau soldiers sat behind the fortifications, some talking amongst each other, some sleeping, some devouring rations. Others lay on the wall of the hastily dug trench and stared at the Imperial lines, probably discussing the same things amongst themselves.

"Yeah." Trenko said to Drex. "Well, look at those rifles. The damn things have got to be two or so meters long. Hell, they're probably compensating for something."

Raucous laughter erupted amongst Trenko's squad at the joke. However, the Valhallans kept peering grimly on ahead. The aliens were still going about regular activities. There was no sign of unrest or of an imminent attack.

"Hey, Trenko, I never caught your first name."

Trenko stared intently at Korban for a minute as he tried to think. He'd known Korban since basic, and yet they were still on a last name basis. Come to think of it, Drex never called him anything but Trenko either. And…

"Throne of fucking Terra."

"What?" Korban inquired.

"I've forgot my own first name."

Yet more laughter came from Trenko's comrades, much to the chagrin of the Valhallans. They simply kept staring on ahead. Trenko sighed. No wonder why some of these Guardsmen simply lost it. They did not take advantage of the moment and indulge in any humor-

Trenko's thoughts abruptly cut off as a whistle sounded. Immediately, Trenko heard the telltale flutter of artillery shells overhead. Human artillery, thank the Emperor. But they were attacking already?

"Well," Drex said nervously, "This is it."

Trenko did not respond to Drex with anything more than a nod. Emperor's sake, he'd seen combat before and he was still getting nervous?

"Over the top, comrades!"

Looking towards the other trench, Trenko noticed that the artillery had already stopped. He checked his watch. The barrage had begun about two minutes ago. Trenko felt a knock on his shoulder. It was Ivanov. "Listen, newbie. I don't know you much, but keep your head down and look unimportant, and we'll have a chance to change that. Got it?"

"I've done this before," Trenko said.

"Good. Then you'll do what I said, right?"

An energy bolt impacted with the ground in front of Trenko, sending a wave of heat across his body and cutting off his response. He noticed a nearby crater and made a beeline. The alien bastard was obviously trying to get a bead on Trenko, but he wasn't about to lose to a filthy Xeno. Ivanov and Drex followed him across the still-muddy field. As Trenko plunged shoulder-first into the shell hole, he watched as a bolt from a Tau pulse rifle took the legs off of Kaidin. Trenko counted the bodies of at least a dozen Guardsmen, both Valhallan and Cappellan, sprawled across the field. And that number was rapidly rising. Wherever he looked, he saw Guardsmen shoulder to shoulder, crawling through the mud or firing their lasguns from pits in the ground in an attempt to force the Tau to keep their heads down.

"TRENKO!" Drex was screaming at him. Trenko violently flipped himself on his back, splashing muddy, once-stagnant water all over the trio that occupied the pit in the ground. "SMOKE GRENADES! GET 'EM OFF OF MY BELT!"

Trenko just stared, momentarily panicking. Ivanov's enormous form was on top of Drex's chest in a very awkward position.

"EMPEROR'S FUCKING BLOOD, TRENKO-"

Trenko ripped the grenades from his friend's belt and tossed them in the general direction of the enemy. Other troopers began to take a cue and followed suite. The Tau had to resort to firing blindly into the haze that obscured their already-poor eyesight.

"Fix bayonets!" shouted the Valhallan commander. All around, Guardsmen fumbled for their bayonets as wild bolts directed energy capable of incinerating them in an instant howled mere centimeters above them. A whistle blew once more, and as one, the Vallhallans rose up and sprinted at the aliens, howling like demons as they hurled las-bolts and grenades at the trenches. The Cappellans did the same and leapt into the trench with their fellow soldiers. Drex stumbled as the trooper next to him, a fairly young Cappellan Guardsman, lost his head to an energy pulse.

As Trenko jumped into the fortification, he landed atop a bewildered Tau soldier. Fumbling for his laspistol, the alien screamed and attempted to scurry away towards his rifle. Trenko put a las-bolt in his chest, superheating the alien's organs and killing him instantly. To his left, Sergeant Ishti suffered a blow to the gut from a helmetless fire warrior wielding a lasgun that he held as a club. Ishti, enraged, punched the alien straight in his noseless face, slamming him against the trench wall. Guardsman and Tau alike screamed and swung weapons, entwined in a clumsy dance of death that engulfed the world around them.

Suddenly, most of the noise around them stopped as the last of the Tau fell to the fury of the Emperor's soldiers. One of the aliens, however, had survived the fracas. He looked around desperately and, seeing no way out, threw down his weapon. The alien screamed frantically in his own tongue and held his hands in front of him. The fire warrior screamed as a Valhallan put a las-bolt into the alien's wrist, severing the hand entirely.

"Let's make this motherfucker pay!" A series of whoops and cheers resounded through the Imperial force. A Guardsman grabbed the alien and drove his bayonet into the alien's shoulder. Yet another smashed his lasgun's buttstock into the fire warrior's abdomen.

Trenko snorted at the alien in contempt. "What, you think we'd just let you go, motherfucker?" He didn't care how much of an idiot he looked like, trying to speak to a Xenos in low gothic. It probably frightened the bastard even more. Trenko punched the alien in the face, knocking off his helmet and exposing his bloodied bluish-grey face. Trenko pointed his lasgun and blew both the alien's legs off.

"Leave him," said Captain Blykhaler as Drex pointed his lasgun at the alien's head, prepared to end his suffering. "He will serve as an example to the rest of his kind."

* * *

A few hours later, Captain Blykhaler's orders were plaguing Drex like a fiend of Nurgle.

Drex, in all his years, could not believe that his best friend would be so cruel. Why did that one alien have to suffer? Yes, they were inferior and deserved to die, but it made no sense to make them die painfully. It was mere cruelty to prolong an animal's suffering, for they were lowering themselves to the level of the very aliens they fought against.

"Hey, Drex." Drex looked up to see Trenko and Ivanov standing over him in the trench. "Something wrong?"

"Trenko, I…" Drex was at a loss for words. What he was about to say was borderline heresy, something Trenko didn't ever tolerate and Ivanov probably didn't look upon too favorably either.

"What happened? Something bothering you about Kaidin? They're putting him on bionics back at the starport. No?"

"Trenko, do you really think it's right to make these Xenos suffer like we made that one suffer earlier today?"

Trenko simply snorted, amused. "Really? You're asking _me_, out of all people? I really couldn't care less whether it's right or not. It's our job to kill the bastards, and that's that. How they die doesn't matter."

Drex simply nodded. He still felt very unsatisfied.

**Author's Notes: Okay, that's chapter 1. Seems OK to me (except for the fact that it seems rushed, it's more than a bit incoherent, and the characters are barely developed) but, well, I'd like you to decide. Reviews are very much appreciated.**


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